


Ankle-Biter

by renecdote



Series: hc_bingo 2017 [14]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: (sorta) - Freeform, Age Regression/De-Aging, Baby Damian, Couch Cuddles, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jason is a good brother, Magical Trouble, Sibling Bonding, Toddler Damian, all the cuddles basically, and he's super fricken cute, sleep cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 06:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13070613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renecdote/pseuds/renecdote
Summary: Alfred has been alerted to the, uh, situation so help of some kind must be on the way, hopefully not too far off. Jason just has to keep Damian calm and safe until then. (He’s having much better luck with one of those things than the other.)“Shhh,” he murmurs, bouncing the toddler to no effect. The crying does not stop. It possibly gets louder. “Come on, Dami, please calm down. I know this is the creepiest thing to happen in months but you’re okay.”Tiny, but okay.





	Ankle-Biter

**Author's Note:**

> For the "magical trouble" square on my h/c bingo card - thanks to the anon on tumblr who requested de-aged Damian. Also for the anon who prompted: “I won’t let anything bad happen to you” with Jason and Damian.

Babies cry. This is common knowledge. Jason knows this. He’s heard and seen it many times.

That does not mean he isn’t feeling completely unsettled by it. 

He’s only ever seen Damian cry once before and it had been a terrifying, confusing experience. This is just distressing. His bright, fearsome little brother reduced to twelve months and wailing to get his message across. Jason isn’t sure whether it’s because he can’t talk yet or because Jason just doesn’t understand any of the garbled words that he’s saying. Either way, it had taken less than ten minutes for his frustration with Jason not understanding to devolve into a temper tantrum, and less than fifteen before that became plain ol’ hysterics. 

For the record, getting a screaming toddler to the closest safehouse without drawing attention? Nigh on impossible. Jason’s glad this one isn’t an apartment he stays in frequently because the neighbours are definitely going to have some complaints. And gossip. Frankly, he’s surprised the nosy young woman he’d met in the hall hasn’t reported a kidnapping.

Alfred has been alerted to the, uh, situation so help of some kind must be on the way, hopefully not too far off. Jason just has to keep Damian calm and safe until then. (He’s having much better luck with one of those things than the other.)

“Shhh,” he murmurs, bouncing the toddler to no effect. The crying does not stop. It possibly gets louder. “Come on, Dami, please calm down. I know this is the creepiest thing to happen in months but you’re okay.”

Tiny, but okay.

The wailing pauses for a second and Jason feels a surge of hope, but Damian is just drawing in a large breathe. The next ear-splitting cry makes him cringe. Jason likes to think he’s pretty good with babies, usually they’re happy to smile and giggle when he pulls faces at them, but his littlest (hah, more literally than ever) brother seems to be the exception. 

“He’s scared.” The voice comes out of nowhere and Jason jumps, swearing under his breath as he spins around, one hand carefully cradling the back of Damian’s head so he doesn’t get whiplash from the movement. Damian clings to his shirt with adorably tiny fingers, red face hidden against his neck, either entirely uninterested in or unaware of the new presence in the room as he continues to cry.

“Jesus Cass,” Jason grumbles. “A little warning next time?”

Cassandra Cain just gives a slight shrug, unrepentant, and steps forward to peer more closely at the baby in Jason’s arms. “Scared,” she repeats, poking the toddler in his pudgy little side and neatly avoiding the flailing kick in return. And then, maybe because she’s kind and considerate of Jason’s possibly-sensitive feelings, but more likely because she’s just insightful, she adds, “Not of you.”

Jason hadn’t really thought he was. When Damian’s crying hadn’t let up after half an hour, he’d thought maybe he was part of the problem, but putting Damian down for even the short minute it took to change into something more comfortable had elicited another tantrum. Whatever his problem is, it’s not Jason. But the consolation is nice anyway. 

Cass reaches toward Damian and Jason automatically tightens his hold, but then he realises that this is his  _ sister  _ for goodness’s sake and he’s being ridiculous. He doesn’t even have any great attachment to Damian like Dick does, why is he suddenly being so protective? Must be the size, he figures, kid being defenceless and all that. 

He shifts his hold to hand the toddler over, but Cass just smiles at him and shakes her head. “Happy with you,” she says, stroking a tuft of soft baby hair instead. 

Jason looks down doubtfully. Damian’s crying has dropped off to whimpering rather than screaming now, but he’s still very clearly not a happy baby. This is Cass, though, body language expert and all-around badass. He can’t tell her she’s  _ wrong _ .

“You can still hold him,” Jason says. “I mean you’re his big sister, I bet he’d be happy with you to?” It comes out like a question; Jason winces. It occurs to him that he doesn’t actually know how well Damian gets along with Cass, but surely not badly because it’s Cass and it’s basically impossible not to love her.

Cass bites her lip, strangely hesitant, and then she says, “I don’t… I haven’t held…”

Oh. Well that’s easily fixed. “Sit down,” Jason says, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll show you.”

They sit down together and he gently pries Damian’s fingers off his shirt and places him in Cass’s lap. He wiggles unhappily at first, still tearful and sniffling, but Jason helps position Cass’s arms and tuck part of her cape around his tiny body and he settles. The cool night, Jason guesses, isn’t helping with Damian’s unhappiness, not now that he’s shrunk too small to fit any of his clothes. The Robin cape only works so well to keep him covered and warm.

“Cute,” Cass says. She makes a face at Damian and giggles when he scrunches his nose and babbles something angry-sounding in response. 

“Alfred sent you?” Jason asks her. He’s a little surprised, honestly, he’d been expecting Dick, if Nightwing is back from his mission overseas. Maybe Bruce, depending on how urgent Alfred deems the situation. (Jason had said it was an emergency, but he’d also said neither of them were hurt, so. You just never know what Alfred considers a priority.)

Cass stares into Damian’s hazel eyes and the baby stares back with a frown. He makes an angry sound and Jason is already reaching for him, but Cass just holds a finger up to her lips and makes a comically hissing shushing sound. Damian’s eyes cross as he stares at her finger but he stays silent. Jason wonders whether she’s secretly a meta with the power of baby whispering. 

“Came to collect,” Cass says. She doesn’t get up with Damian and leave, though, just looks around the apartment like she’s… what? Searching for things the baby might need for the trip back to the Manor? does she think Jason was actually  _ prepared _ for this? “Car is downstairs.”

“They let you take the Batmobile?” Jason asks in surprise. He’s fairly sure Cass is Bruce’s favourite but still.  _ Nobody _ gets to drive the Batmobile.

“Bruce is hurt,” she replies. “And stubborn. Keeping Alfred busy.”

Ah. So Bruce probably doesn’t know she took the Batmobile. Or that his youngest son has been turned into a toddler by some not-so-amateur magician.

“Wonderful,” Jason mutters, but he knows he’s not going to be able to avoid going to the Manor. If only because he was the only one who witnessed Damian being magicked into a baby and someone has to fill the others in. And because Cass will make him. Not at all because he’s feeling strangely attached to the kid all of a sudden. 

Cass hands Damian back to Jason and goes to grab a bag he didn’t even realise she’d dropped on the floor. It’s got Alfred’s name written all over it because she pulls out a diaper and a tiny t-shirt and a pair of even tinier socks before moving back over to the couch. Wrangling Damian into a diaper is not an experience Jason thought he’d ever have. It’s easier than he expected it to be though, now that Damian has exhausted himself with all the tears and wailing. The t-shirt is a little harder and Jason lets Cass tackle that one while he puts on the socks. They’ve got little dogs on them. Jason wonders whether they used to belong to Bruce, or if Alfred just happened to have socks for a toddler lying around in case something like this ever happened. With how weird their lives are, it really could be either.

“Come on,” Cass says, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Alfred’s waiting.”

Jason sighs but stands up. It’s best not to keep Alfred waiting. 

And besides, Cass is a good sister who will let him drive and Jason will never pass up a chance to drive the Batmobile. It’s a shame he can’t take the corners too fast because it’s not exactly equipped to carry a toddler.

Twenty minutes later, they cruise to a gentle stop in the Cave and Jason takes several unnecessarily long seconds to turn off the car and make sure all the lights on the dash have gone out. Damian is dozing in Cass’s arms, blinking himself awake every time he nods off to peer around at his surroundings like maybe they’ve changed, but it’s a losing battle. By the time they’re out of the car and the toddler is back in Jason’s arms, he’s asleep. Jason takes the short walk toward the Batcomputer to appreciate how fricken cute his little brother is now that he’s not screaming his head off.

“Ah, there you are,” Alfred says as he turns around. And then he freezes for a second, eyes landing on the miniaturised Damian. “Oh my. I didn’t quite believe…”

“Here,” Jason says, because he’s holding the baby who is practically Alfred’s grandson so there’s really only one thing to do. He takes Alfred’s arms and transfers Damian into them, stepping back with a small smile. The butler will deny it under pain of death, but Jason is sure his eyes are shimmering. 

Although, to be fair, it could be amusement at the way Damian’s face scrunches up and his little pink tongue pokes out as he grumbles in his sleep.

There’s a click from behind him and Jason turns to see Cass tapping at her phone. Probably sending that picture to everyone bat-related in her contacts. Damian is going to be so mad about that when he’s back to normal.

“Going back out,” she says, phone vanishing back into… somewhere. She leans forward to kiss Damian’s cheek, then stretches on her toes and does the same to Jason with a quick, mischievous grin. “Take lots of photos.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jason agrees, already being distracted by Alfred turning toward the med bay. Damian starts to stir in his arms, maybe woken by the sound of Cass revving her bike’s engine before peeling out of the Cave, and Alfred bounces him a little as he walks. 

“Master Bruce has been informed of the situation,” the butler says as Jason followers him. “But he is also on quite a large dose of painkillers so I’m not entirely sure how  _ aware _ of the situation he is.”

Bruce is sitting on the edge of one of the beds, top half of the batsuit missing and bandages wrapped around his chest and left shoulder. He looks up when the they approach, eyes catching on Jason before sliding to the child Alfred is carrying.

“Damian,” he breathes. He reaches forward and Alfred quickly places the sleepy toddler in his father’s arms. Jason hangs back, not really wanting to be around Bruce for too long, but feeling a need to stay close to Damian. Maybe there was something else in the magic that turned Damian into a toddler, something that makes others feel the need to protect him… But no. Cass hadn’t seemed affected like that. Maybe it’s just Jason. Maybe it’s just that he knows how kids who spend too much time around Bruce can end up.

Hell, maybe he just loves his little brother more than he’s willing to admit.

The toddler looks even smaller in Batman’s arms. Jason doesn’t know whether there’s any recognition in Damian’s eyes, but he’s staring up at his father with something like awe. One tiny hand reaches up and swats at his chin. “Ba,” he says, which could be an attempt at Batman or dad or just a random baby sound, but it makes Bruce smile. It’s a soft, open expression and Jason is pretty sure it’s only there because of the painkillers. Bruce just doesn’t smile the way he used to anymore. Maybe if Damian… But no. Damian isn’t going to stay a baby, they’re going to turn him back. Bruce should just learn to smile at his children no matter what age or how adorably chubby they are.

The cute father-son moment is broken when Bruce looks back up at Jason and asks, “Do we know who did this? Is there a way to fix it?” 

Brusque and businesslike. Jason feels a sneer tug at his lips in response and stamps it down because Damian is looking at him now as well. Babies are sensitive to facial expressions aren’t they? Visual displays of emotion and all that shit?

“Typical,” he grunts, crossing his arms. “You spend so much time bitching about missing your kid’s childhood and now that you’ve got the chance you’re too concerned about “fixing him”.”

Bruce stiffens at the jab, then consciously relaxes a second later like he’s remembered there’s a baby in his arms. A baby who is beginning to fuss at the arguing going on over his head. A part of Jason wants to reach out and grab Damian, shush him and run a hand through his fluffy hair to calm him. But Bruce is still the kid’s dad, and he’s already rocking him slightly, maybe responding instinctively because he sure as hell doesn’t take his icy gaze off his second eldest son.

“This isn’t like that,” he says. “This isn’t Damian.”

“Like hell it isn’t - I watched it fucking happen!”

“You know what I mean. Damian wouldn’t want-“

“Oh so you actually pay enough attention to your kid to know what he would want?”

“That’s enough,” Alfred interrupts sternly. He takes Damian from Bruce and sends both him and Jason withering looks. It’s not quite a glare, it’s the Alfred version of one, and it’s so much worse. Jason swears a little part of him shrivels up and dies (again).

“I’m going to change the young master’s diaper and get him some food,” the butler continues. “Since he is currently a  _ baby _ and needs to be cared for instead of argued over.” 

And he doesn’t say it but Jason can see it in his eyes, the added  _ he gets enough of that at his proper age. _ He winces. He may not be the parent, but he’s sure as hell guilty of not always being the best brother he could be.

“Sorry Alfie,” he mutters. Alfred nods, apology accepted. “I can help, if you want?”

Damian fusses in Alfred’s arms and he shushes him gently before saying, “It’s quite alright, Master Jason, you’ve had a long night yourself. Perhaps a shower then some tea?”

It’s a suggestion reminiscent of his Robin days when he didn’t want to go to bed after patrol, or when he was too wound to relax, or when he was mad at Bruce and Alfred was trying to separate them to cool off. Jason nods and trudges toward the stairs. As he leaves, he hears Alfred telling Bruce, “You too - don’t even think about staying down here to work on this new case. If you’re not going to rest, you can at least spend some time with your son.”

He’s not entirely sure the son Alfred is referring to is Damian. He pointedly doesn’t think about that as he strips and get in the shower in one of the upstairs guest rooms. Tonight has been weird enough without adding bonding with Bruce into the mix.

Jason showers quickly, eager to get back downstairs, and even though he’s sure Alfred has some of his clothes hidden away here somewhere, he just changes back into what he was wearing. It’s as he’s pulling a shirt over his head that his phone rings. He almost doesn’t answer it because, well, does he need a reason other than that it’s Dick? Any other night and he probably wouldn’t, but he knows why Dick is calling and he knows Dick probably hates that he’s out of the country right now and Jason’s not  _ completely _ cruel.

He answers the video call.

“Jay!” Dick exclaims, grinning widely. “How are you? It’s been too long.”

Jason rolls his eyes, already walking out of the room and down the hall. “Yeah, Yeah, let’s skip the small talk okay? He’s downstairs with Alfie.”

Eating apple slices, apparently. Jason has to duck a piece thrown at his head when he steps into the kitchen and Dick, the  _ dick _ , laughs.

“Oh my god,” he squeaks when Jason turns the phone around. “Dami you’re so cute!”

Dami frowns at the phone. He babbles something and makes grabby hands but Jason keeps his phone out of reach. If there’s on thing he knows, it’s that children are always sticky and he does not need those grubby little paws all over his phone.

“I can’t believe I missed this,” Dick is bemoaning. “Ugh, I just want to squish his chubby little cheeks. Jay, give him a cuddle for me.”

“Absolutely not,” Jason retorts, even though he’s basically been cuddling the kid since he was shrunk. But Dick doesn’t need to know that. 

“Aww, Jay-” Dick starts and Jason tunes him out. Watching Damian arranging his few remaining apple slices in some order that only makes sense to him is much more interesting anyway. He zones out a bit watching it, wondering how much, if any, of this Damian is going to remember when they resize him. There’s so much potential for embarrassing moments, maybe he’ll be able to rope Cass into helping him take advantage of them...

The front door slams and Jason turns around as Duke appears in the doorway and stops dead. Jason supposes they do make quite the scene. The fact that he’s here at all, not to mention that he’s facetiming Dick, who’s cooing and making increasingly ridiculous faces at an unimpressed Damian. And Damian. Turned into a little ankle-biter, now throwing apple slices at Jason’s phone. 

But Duke is still relatively new to the madness that is their lives so of course he doesn’t immediately realise that the toddler is Damian. Instead he says, “Um. Please tell me Bruce didn’t steal a baby?”

Jason laughs. “Oh no, this time it’s much weirder.”

At some point during the ensuing discussion about how the baby is actually Damian and how that came to be, Alfred gets frustrated with the mess that is being made and kicks them all out. Which gives Jason an excuse to end the call with Dick (after promising lots of photos and videos, of course). Damian’s fingers are face are, predictably, covered in apple and god knows what else, so Jason detours to a bathroom to clean him up before they re-congregate in the den. 

Duke is fiddling with the TV and Jason isn’t even surprised when the Disney logo appears on the screen. He blames Dick for the films making their way into the Manor DVD collection.

“What are we watching?” he asks.

Duke tosses him the DVD case. “Bambi. Only thing I could find that’s kid friendly and has animals.”

It’s not one Jason remembers seeing, but it’s Disney and it’s animals so it can’t go too badly. He glances over the case before handing it to the toddler on his knee. “See that, Dames?” he says. “Animals. You love animals, don’t ya?”

When he looks up again, Duke is smiling at them both. “You’re good with him,” he says. Credit to the new kid: he doesn’t sound surprised. Whatever he’s learnt about the Red Hood since joining Team Bat, it must not have been all bad. 

Jason shrugs, feeling a little awkward with the compliment and the attention all of a sudden. Damian starts chewing on the corner of the DVD case and he absently pulls it out of his mouth. Damian grumbles at him and starts sucking on his thumb instead.

“I used to babysit some of the kids in my building,” Jason offers after a moment. When the neighbours had to work overtime to make rent and he didn’t need to look after his mum. It’s definitely not something he ever thought would give him skills for a situation like this. He shrugs again, clears his throat. “Anyway, we’re watching a movie yeah?”

“Yeah,” Duke echoes, taking the hint and turning around to start the movie. 

Damian immediately starts squirming when the animals come on screen, trying to move further forward, so Jason sets him down on the beanbag in front of the TV. It’s not like he can get up to too much trouble down there. And he doesn’t; he sits quietly, occasionally chattering to himself or maybe to the film, completely enraptured. If he was slightly older, Jason has no doubt there would be a demand for a fawn or a bunny, or both, after this.

And then it all goes to shit. There are men and the animals are running and there’s the sound of gunshots and-

Damian starts crying. 

“Aw sh-sugar.” Duke winces. 

Jason shoots him a glare as he reaches for Damian, soothing words already sliding off his tongue. The toddler crawls away from him through, babbling incomprehensibly through his tears. 

“Come on, Dami, it’s alright,” Jason tries, moving forward and getting kicked at for his trouble. 

“No!” Damian yells, and that’s one word that Jason definitely understands. The toddler pushes himself up and wobbles his way toward the door, gaining balance and speed with every step. Jason curses under his breath as he gets up to chase him. One step away from the doorway, he grabs Damian around the waist, spinning him around as he lifts him up. Damian beats his tiny fists against Jason’s chest but Jason just cuddles him close and rubs a hand up and down his back, channelling Dick and murmuring every comforting phrase he can think of. 

He’s aware in his periphery of Duke stopping the movie and taking the DVD out of the player, but his focus is on the toddler in his arms. Damian is probably still spent from his massive crying jag earlier because his tears slow much quicker and it’s not long before he goes limp against Jason’s chest. When Jason sits back down on the couch, Damian hides his face against his neck and refuses to be budged.

“Sorry about-” Duke starts. 

Jason cuts him off with a shake of his head. “It’s fine. It’s not like-“ And then he stops himself, cringing a little because he can’t quite believe he was about to say “it’s not like he’s not used to death”. The fact that Damian was raised by assassins, and that Bambi is just a kids movie, doesn’t change the fact that he’s suddenly twelve months old and Disney can apparently be traumatising.

“Just put on something else,” he says. He glances down at the toddler in his arms and adds, “He’s probably going to fall asleep soon so whatever as long as it’s not, like, loud and violent.”

Jason’s own eyes are drooping, exhaustion from patrol and the particular insanity of the night catching up with him. Some cheerful tune starts playing and more animated figures dance across the screen so he presumes they’re trying another Disney movie. He adjusts his hold on Damian so they’re both more comfortable and tips his head back, eyes fluttering closed. He’s not planning to sleep, he’s just going to rest his eyes for a second, and then...

There’s no sound to announce someone’s approach but Jason’s neck prickles and he rolls his head to the side to see Bruce in the doorway. Some time must have passed because the TV is off now and someone has draped a blanket over him and Damian. He watches through slitted eyes as his adoptive father approaches the couch and leans over the back. His hand skims over Jason’s hair before finding Damian and Jason tells himself it was just an accidental touch. It wasn’t Bruce’s weird way of showing affection when he thinks nobody can see his weakness.

Bruce says something too low for Jason’s sleep fogged mind to process but so obviously fond that it makes his chest ache. Memories of crawling into bed with Bruce because of nightmares or because he just wasn’t feeling well wash over him. The way Bruce would hug him and comfort him even if they’d had a fight that day. And he’s about to tell him he’s sorry about what he said earlier, that he can join them, that Damian would probably prefer to be with his father rather than his brother anyway-

But Bruce just kisses Damian on the head and runs his hand through Jason’s hair (no denying it’s intentional this time) and then he’s gone. Back to the Cave, back to the case.

Jason’s sighs. “‘S okay,” he mumbles to Damian. “He’s shit a showing it, but he loves you.”

Damian just gives an adorable snuffling snore and continues drooling on his shirt. He’s not sure what else he was expecting.

The next time Jason wakes it’s from a deeper sleep and to the sound of a whimpering toddler. He’s disoriented for a moment, unused to waking up in the Manor or to waking up near a baby. When the events of the night before come back to him, though, he’s instantly wide awake. Damian isn’t on his chest anymore and he has to blink through the semi-darkness to find him in a cot beside the couch. Alfred must have snuck in and moved him, probably worried about Damian rolling off the couch during the night.

“Hey, Dami,” Jason says, scooping up the toddler and cuddling him. “Still tiny, huh?” He gets a whimper in response, probably unrelated to his question. “What’s the matter? Nightmares? Hungry? Need a diaper change?”

He’s not sure why he bothers asking, Damian can’t exactly tell him, but it makes Jason feel better. He checks his diaper and wrinkles his nose.

“Well that answers that,” he mutters, wandering out to find where Alfred left the clean diapers and nappy powder. 

Changing a baby’s diaper? Not like riding a bike, it turns out. Jason struggles and swears for a good fifteen minutes before he gets it right and Damian stops being cranky and starts being a happy, cuddly koala baby again. 

“We’ll make Bruce do that next time,” Jason tells him as he walks back to the den. “He’s probably never changed a diaper in his life, it’ll be very amusing for the rest of us.”

Damian starts fussing again when Jason tries to put him back down, latching onto his shirt and refusing to let go. Jason doesn’t have to know what Damian is like at thirteen to know that’s going to be a losing battle, so he gives up on putting Damian back in the cot (and seriously - where is Alfred pulling all this baby stuff from?) and carries him back to the end of the couch he’d been sitting on.

Damian stares up at him with wide, wet eyes and Jason hums a few bars of a vaguely remembered lullaby. Maybe something his mum sang to him, maybe just a popular one he heard somewhere. After a few moments, Damian settles easily in his arms and Jason leans back with the toddler cuddled against his chest. He doesn’t close his eyes to go back to sleep, though, just looks down at the miniature version of his brother.

“God, you’re so tiny,” Jason murmurs, trailing a finger down one small pudgy cheek and smiling when sleepy fingers try to grab at it. “We’re going to find whoever did this, okay? And I’m going to make him pay. Whatever his plan was, he’s not going to hurt you again, I promise.” He drops a light kiss on Damian’s too-small forehead. “I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you.”

And maybe when Damian wakes up, the magic will have worn off an he’ll be his proper size again. Or maybe he won’t. Either way, Jason is going to keep his little brother safe. That’s not a duty contingent on being a defenceless toddler.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr is [here](tantalum-cobalt.tumblr.com).


End file.
